


morning

by vaenire



Category: xXx (Movies)
Genre: Drabble, M/M, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-16 01:18:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18084647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vaenire/pseuds/vaenire
Summary: Heat. That’s the first thing Xander noticed as he woke up. Two blankets, a down comforter and a boyfriend plastered to his chest would do that.





	morning

**Author's Note:**

> im just trying to plow through a bingo sheet :)

Heat. That’s the first thing Xander noticed as he woke up. Two blankets, a down comforter and a boyfriend plastered to his chest would do that.

Movement. Xiang was twisting in the sheets, trying to pull his hands out and rolling away from Xander. He floundered until Xander helped, pushing the blankets off them.

Xiang held his arm currently in a cast aloft as he rolled toward the side table, reaching for the painkillers.

"You need water?" Xander asked slurredly, shying away from the cool air, tempted to pull the blankets back up.

"Got a glass here," Xiang replied shortly. He shook out a couple pills-- Xander thought too late to check exactly how many-- and threw them back before lying flat again. His arm swung out over Xander's chest and Xander wrapped his hand around his elbow loosely.

It had been a bad, nasty break. Xander hadn't ever seen Xiang take the meds Becky offered and actually take them as suggested before, so he knew it was capital-b Bad.

At this point of the morning, half past seven, Xiang would usually already be up and stretching, drinking his tea or his morning shot. This morning, Xiang laid in bed and contemplated it. Xander ran his fingertips over the flesh of his inner bicep, veins thrumming under Xiang’s smooth skin. His breathing was belabored, and Xander ached at knowing Xiang was in pain with nothing Xander could do about it.  

With his good arm, Xiang grabbed the edge of the mountain of blankets and pulled down, huffing a miserable sigh and turning into Xander to tuck his head against his chest. His cast was folded under him uncomfortably, and Xander wrapped his arm around his shoulders, lying back himself to pull Xiang to lay on top. Their legs tangled under the heavy blankets as Xiang adjusted, slipping his one arm under Xander’s ribs and finagling his casted arm onto the bed beside Xander’s head.

There were probably five minutes before Xiang would fall asleep again. Xander stroked Xiang’s hair.

It wasn’t often that they could have a late morning. Even less often when Xiang _agreed_ to curl back up. Even under the circumstances, Xander enjoyed it, relished in the sleep warm heat of Xiang, his breathing against his neck, the way his foot slowly traced the inside of Xander’s ankle, slower as he drifted into a painkillers-induced sleep.

There wasn’t much in this world Xander sought to maintain. Not the “world order” that his government evangelized to him, not the higher ideals or big pictures or any of that other noise.

But moments like this, warm, content, lazy mornings with Xiang. He’d go to bat with every doomsday cult or crooked politician in the world if it meant keeping mornings like this.


End file.
